Shot in the Dark
by imalionrawr010
Summary: Evangeline was selected from thousands of women across the nation. She was going to prove the naysayers wrong and make this a successful experiment. M for future language.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been watching a lot of WWII stuff lately and, not going to lie, I'm in love with the Pacific. I've noticed there seems to be, not a lot, but some slash in the the Pacific section and I was just hoping to squeeze in with a hetero pairing... Anyway, I had a pretty kickass dream and I'm just embellishing upon it. Pure fiction. I know a woman would never be allowed in combat back then. But hey, my story, my rules :] I really hope you guys like it. Let me know in the reviews. Please?**

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><p><strong>Chapter one<strong>

_July fourth, Nineteen-hundred and forty._

I'll always remember that cold, rainy day when the Senator came to our home. The date was the fourth of July, our country's 164th birthday and my twentieth. I remembered watching the sleek silver Cadillac pull into our long, sloping driveway. The driver parked under the giant Live Oak tree that was close enough to the driveway. He got out of the car and escorted the politician to out front porch under a shiny black umbrella. I watched from my window sill seat which overlooked the two acres of front yard and driveway.

After our housekeeper, Mimi, allowed him in, I returned to my paper. The professor had assigned it on his favorite book, _Wuthering Heights _by Emily Bronte. I thought it was a terribly dreadful book, long and gloomy. But he believed it to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written. There was a soft knock on my door, to which I allowed entry. It was my father, a glum look on his face. My father, a full blooded dark skinned Cajun business man, was pale. The threat of tears brimmed his eyes.

"Princess, come here will you?" He spoke, his usually strong, slightly French accented voice was barely louder than a whisper. Setting my notebook and pencil down on the window sill, I strode to where he stood. I wondered, what was going on to make my father, strong and wise, to be so close to the point of breaking.

"Is everything all right, Daddy?" I asked as he led me to his study. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Don't worry about me," He answered stiffly. "Surely you remember Senator Lewis?"

By this time we were in his study. Staring up at my father's ceiling heigh bookcases was a tall, blonde haired, white man. Of course, I knew Senator John Lewis. He had always been a bit too fond of me, or so I thought. I nodded as the Senator turned, a professional smile on his face.

"Ah, Evangeline Marie," He held his hand out for me to shake, which I took. "It's always good to see you. You look so much like your mother."

"Thank you, Senator," I spoke softly, gently putting a hand on my father's arm. My mother was a difficult subject to talk about in our home. More so for Daddy than for me. I never really knew her. "May I ask what brings you here in such foul weather?"

"A little bit of business," Lewis sighed as my father left the room. I was a little sad to see him leave, but I guessed that he had already heard this "business".

"For me, I'm guessing?"

"Please, Evangeline, take a seat," He guestured towards one of my father's study chairs like this was his house.

As I sat, I wondered what business he was wanting to talk to me about. Could it be marriage? No, Daddy wouldn't have gone so pale because of a proposal. He would have been happy, probably more so than I would be.

"Evangeline," Senator Lewis started. "Do you remember taking the President's Fitness Exam a few weeks ago?"

"Of course," I smiled a bit. "Most of the girls thought it was rather difficult."

A broad grin came onto his face. "And you? What did you think of the test?"

"It was pretty cut and dry to me," I shrugged, remembering how breathless the otheres were while I felt just fine.

"Evangeline, that exam was the first day of PT for the United States Marine Corps," Lewis continues smiling like a fool as he spoke. "You see, the war overseas in Europe is getting bloody and the Germans are increasingly hostile with the French and British. Both of which are pressuring us to join the effort. Congress is preparing to declare war at any moment, but seeing as the Germans haven't done anything to us just yet, we're going to continue giving aide."

Still, I was silent. Germans? War? I had seen the news reels of Germany invading Poland and I knew that France and Britain were begging for our help. But the United States, as a country, still had empty pockets from the first war. Making weapons, clothes, food, travel arrangements, and other things to prepare for war was expensive. I hoped we wouldn't be needed in battle any time soon.

"No one in Washington is certain if we'll have enough enlisted soldiers if we decide to go to war," Of course the Senator meant DC. "The President has thusly issued an official US Government experiment. He wants to know if women can train, shoot, fight, and command a battalion as successfully as a man would." John wasn't a very fast talker; he was descriptive and slow. But my head still swam with all the information he was giving me.

A woman in combat? There hadn't ever been a woman fighting for the United States . Ever. With an exception of Mary Ludwig Hays, or by her better known name, Molly Pitcher. However, the folklore and ledgends from other cultures of women fighting wasn't too rare. The Amazon Warriors, who fought bravely and feared no man. The Viking Valkyrie who swooped from the Heavens and took dead warriors to the halls of Valhalla. And then there was the Chinese legend of a woman taking her old and crippled father's place when he was drafted into war. From the way the Senator described it, the President was going to have women participate in battle.

"You're rather silent, Evangeline. Mind telling me what you think?" The Senator asked.

"Just taking it all in, Senator." I answered.

"Please, call me John."

"John," I corrected myself. "Perhaps you can also tell me why you're telling me all this?"

He nodded and sat on the edge of his seat, lacing his fingers together. "Evangeline, how would you like to serve your country and be the first American woman to serve your country and see combat since the Civil War?"

Somehow, something in my brain already knew that he was going to ask this of me. I was slightly stunned and didn't really know what to say. So we sat in silence for a bit until I found my words.

"Why me? Why not any of the other women?" I blurted. Again, John smiled.

"That test was given at all the Universities across the United States where women attend. Only three women got scores as high as any man could. Only one of those three got a perfect score." John's smile turned devious, as if he had some gossip to tell.

"Me?" I guessed. John smiled brightly, nodding a little bit. "I'm guessing this is what made my father lose his color. Perhaps I can sleep on the decision?"

"Of course," He nodded and stood.

"Where are you lodged?" I asked again, standing as well.

"Oh, just a little inn in Gonzales," John shrugged.

"Perhaps we can get you a room here. Gonzales is an awful long drive, especially in this weather." I suggested, leading the politician out of the study. I heard a chuckle come from him as he followed me to the parlor.

"That would be nice. Do you think you'd have another room in this castle for my driver? He was falling asleep earlier."

"That can be arranged," My father spoke, stepping out of the parlor, his pipe in hand. "Angel, could you go upstairs and finish up your homework? I have somethings I need to discuss with Johnny."

I gave my father a small nod and returned to my room. Even through the thick walls and doors of our house I could hear my father vehemently objecting to me joining the Marine Corps. He had been a Corporal in the first Great War for the Marines and had seen many things he didn't dare speak about. I was not one bit surprised that he didn't want me to go. But I couldn't help but wonder, was it because I was all he had left or because he felt women shouldn't be allowed in the military?

As I finished my paper to the steady rain falling on my window, I couldn't push the offer of the Marines out of my head. While most women were only allowed to be cooks or office workers for every branch of the military, I would be the only one giving orders and shooting down enemies. Something inside me, animalistic almost, liked the idea of standing for what my country believed in or protecting our allies. This primal Evangeline thirsted for that kind of power and authority. However, there was another side of me that didn't like this at all. That Evangeline was timid, and wished to stay in her room.

The weather cleared and after a rather tense dinner with my father and John, I went to the front yard. Futher from the house than the Live Oak was a Willow with two wood planked swings on one branch. With the rag I had brought with me, I wiped off the rain water from one and sat on it. The swings were in just the right position so I could see the fireworks being set off in the streets of downtown Baton Rouge. As the explosions went off, lighting up the sky with pinks, greens, blues, and yellows, I softly hummed the National Anthem. It was still a little weird to me that my birthday was on the fourth.

When I finished the anthem, I heard the sound of shoes squishing across the wet yard. I tossed the rag I used on my swing onto the other one. My father stood next to me, wiping off the drippings from the Willow, eventually sitting on the swing. We sat in silence, watching as more firewords, this time red, white and blue ones, lit up the night sky. I wanted to ask my father of the things he had seen in the trenches of the Great War. But I knew he wouldn't answer. He never would.

"I think I'm going to do it, Daddy," I spoke, breaking the silence between us. "I think it would be an honorable thing for me to do."

"I was eighteen when I enlisted in the Marines," He sighed, holding onto the ropes of the swing and leaning back. I watched him, listening intently. "The Great War had just been declared in Europe. Everyone in the States held their breaths for when we would enter. It wasn't until '17 that Wilson announced that we were aiding our allies. I was 21 when I was shipped off. Your mother was devistated."

"You and mama were married by then?" I asked, astonished that he was talking about this.

"Yes," Daddy nodded. "We married when I was 19 and a Private First Class. Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't get pregnant until the end of 1919. But the things I saw in Europe...they scarred me."

I noticed the hitch in his voice as he began to delve into his most guarded memories.

"Best friends, leaders, men I didn't even know, I saw them all die. Angel, I don't have one friend alive today that I went to high school with. Not one. Many times I would lay on the cold, hard ground and look at the starry night sky and think, 'why me? Why am I still alive when I've had to see my friends be shot down?' Sometimes I can still see the blood of my friends still on my hands," He held both of his infront of his face, as if he was inspecting them for twenty-two year old blood that had long ago been washed away. "And then, almost as quickly as we were called into the field, the Great War was over. Your mother was the only one who seemed like she tried to understand the burden that had been placed on me.

"My contract with the Marines ended one year after the end of the War. And then," He looked at me, fat, emotional tears rolling down his face. "Then you were born, Angel. Your mother didn't seem to understand why I was so fiercly protective about sending you to schools. She wanted you to go to boarding schools while I began to take over my father's company. I wanted you home schooled by a tutor of my choice. Fights about you turned into fights about us and 'who we were as a couple.' I remember hearing your mother on the phone with hers, saying that I loved you more than I would ever love her. At first, I denied it. The love I had for your mother and for you were totally different. And then I began to change."

This overload of information was crushing me, not to mention seeing my father cry was a sight that would break even the toughest. Why had he waited so long to tell me this? It didn't seem fair.

"I couldn't see your mother as the woman I fell in love with all those years ago. She was cold, harsh, and unemotional at times. But most of all, she was angry. Marie found it difficult to be in the same room with you when you were having a tantrum. She left when you were seven, but you know that. Evangeline, you are all I have anymore. I'm not sure how I could live if I lost you in Europe. However," He took a long, shaky breath. "You are a grown woman, you are allowed to make your own choices. And if you take this offer, I hope you give it all that you can. All I ask is that you come home to me alive, and not in a pine box."

In a mad rush, I stood from my swing and into my father's arm. The long, black hair that I inherited from him covered my face and his back as I cried onto his shoulder. I couldn't remember the last time I cried like that on his shoulder. I had to be in junior high school, perhaps a freshman in high school; I couldn't remember. As I bawled and snotted onto his expensive suit jacket, I could feel the cold, wet tears that belonged to my father drip onto my neck as he held me.

If there was a time I wanted to change my mind, it was now. But I didn't. I felt some kind of obligation to give the President and the Marines a good report and good results. I had to do this - I wanted to do this. It wasn't that I was trying to be hero or brave, but my country was calling upon me. As my tears dried and I simply held onto my father's neck, I made my final decision. I was going. And I'll be damned if I wasn't a person in charge by the time the war was over.

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><p><strong>Please, tell me what you think. I really really want to know! Even if you don't like it, thank you for reading :]<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**The ending's cheesy, I know. But I'm just getting started. Just to let you guys know, the next three or four chapters will be a little quicker than the first two, but they'll be just as good...hopefully... By the way, thank you to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, and favored my story! It really means a lot and makes me keep going. Thanks you guys c:**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

My father, who I had never known to be a praying man, went to church the next morning. I hadn't been able to sleep well that night, the night of my twentieth birthday. With the Labrador I had owned since I was ten by my side, I walked the entire property, thinking about the months, possibly years, I may be in the service. Phillipe had been a faithful companion and now that he was ten years old, he was known as an old man in the dog world.

I wondered if I would be able to see my beloved pooch before he passed. There were many things that I was going to miss that I just had to accept. My friends weddings, parties, the births of their children. I suspected that due to the sensitivity of the matter I wouldn't be allowed to tell my friends where I was, what I was doing. That crushed me the most.

When I returned to the house, I found the Senator sitting at the dinner table, eating a plate of Mimi's scrambled eggs. In French, I commanded Phillipe to lay down next to my chair as I sat across the way from John. With my brown eyes, I watched as John wolfed down the Creole breakfast. He ate like he was the one going to basic training and unable to eat real food. I couldn't deny that he was attractive, perhaps marriage material. However, I had always had a liking for dark skinned Cajun boys.

"Have you made a decision?" He asked, talking through a mouth full of food.

I nodded, stroking Phillipe's soft yellow head. Although I had told him to lie down, he chose to sit. "Mhm," I answered. John peered up at me, waiting for my answer. "It was not an easy choice to make, but I feel it is the right one. I'm going."

"Excellent!" John clapped his hands together, hastily swallowing his eggs. "Do you have a phone? I need to make a few calls." With a nod, I pointed towards the kitchen. As I cradled my head with a hand, John stood, leaving his empty plate on the table and heading for the kitchen.

I sat at the table, still petting my dog, bathed in the soft ticking of the Grandfather Clock in the dining room. With my free hand, I rubbed my left eye. From the kitchen I could hear laughter coming from John. How in the Hell was any of this funny? Not long after he entered the kitchen, John returned, a smile on his face. Clearly he thought he had good news and wasn't toying with my life.

"Good news," I knew it. "A plane is being set up for us to take to South Carolina. You're going to Parris Island. I'm going to contact your college and start your withdrawal papers."

"You said a plane is taking 'us.' Which means I'm not the only one going," I spoke, not bothering to look at him.

"Yes," He started slowly. "I will be there, monitoring your progress, making sure you get fair treatment-"

"No." The idea of being protected bothered me. How was I to earn the respect of my comrades if there was a Senator breathing down everyone's necks, making sure I was being pampered? I may have been raised by a wealthy man, but I was not a spoiled child.

"Beg pardon?"

"If I'm going to train like a Marine, lead like a Marine, and possibly fight like one, I'm going to be treated however my leaders decide to treat me. Whether it's fair or not, I had a choice, just like those other men. I deserve whatever's thrown at me."

John was silent for a moment and then scoffed. "Whatever suits you. But if you don't mind, I'd like to be sure you don't die. We're leaving in two days. Only take clothes and a few personal items."

The next two days seemed like I was in a daze, simply packing what I needed, or at least what I thought I needed. Daddy accomodated to whatever need I had in those two days. However, the most I ever needed was a shoulder to cry on. Someone to tell my fears to. I had only seen John a handful of times, mostly at mealtimes. He was the only happy one in this house; he didn't seem to understand why my father and I kept so silent. As if this was a good thing, and the possibility of war was slim. Really, it only took me a day to pack. So I spent the rest of my time with my father and Phillipe on our land.

Daddy offered to move to South Carolina, that way I could have him and Phillipe nearby. I declined; he had a business to run and I didn't think it would fare kindly if it's owner relocated about 800 miles away for an indefinite amount of time. Departing was as difficult, if not more so, than I thought I would be. Saying goodbye to Mimi was the easiest part though. The mournful look in Phillipe's eyes made it worse, and by the time I got to my father, I was about ready to say "forget it" and take my suitcase back inside.

As tears streamed down my face I watched as my strong and brave father, Corporal in the Marines during the Great War, stood at the top of the driveway, waving goodbye to me. Phillipe at his side. Once the car left our property, I faced the front of the cab, wondering what was next. John sat next to me, a pleased expression on his face as the driver sped down the country roads to get to New Orleans on time. A blind man would have noticed the constant glances he sent my way.

"It's a real brave thing what you're doing, you know," He cooed. I knew John was only trying to reassure me that my decision was the right one. But I couldn't help but not want his help or his reassurance. I simply nodded and watched the passing scenery. "Don't think I know many women who would be willing to do this."

"You don't know any other women who were offered this." I snapped, still watching the blurs of oak, pecan, and holly trees.

"True," He shrugged. "I have to ask though, what's your boyfriend to think when he notices his girl has up and left town?"

"Don't have a boyfriend. No fiance either." I said gruffly, not really in the mood to talk. Or to use proper grammer.

"Oh?" John mused, looking at the ceiling of the Cadillac. "Well, then, shall we hope the Theriot reputation doesn't scare away any potential suitors?"

I rolled my eyes and faced my back towards him. I didn't want to talk, and even if I did, I wanted to talk to my father. Surely, John attempted to talk to me during the duration of our trip to New Orleans. However, I slept most of the way there. And when I wasn't sleeping, I tried to pretend I was. I did the same thing on the plane to South Carolina and the car ride to Parris Island, only speaking to use the restroom or to tell John I was hungry or thirsty.

My anxiety peaked when we entered the gates of the training base. MP's with rifles stared into the car with accusing eyes as if they knew we had something to hide. I wondered if they knew, that I was going to be a Marine too. The car passed the entrance gate, and headed down the main road, on both sides of the road were men in t-shirts and shorts, running in rank. The driver took a few turns to get to a building that looked similar to the rest of the buildings on the base. However, the sign in the front told everyone that it was the main office building.

It was then that we got out of the car, greeted by a low ranking officer who was scrawny and kind of pale. I couldn't remember his name, but only that he was very kind and seemed to be interested in a woman joining the ranks. As we entered the building, I felt like I was being watched by every man and woman who worked in there. As if they all knew I was going to become a soldier. The low ranking officer lead us to the office of a high ranking officer, the one who ran the base and its day to day activities. This one was tall, and very tan. He had little to no hair and greeted me enthusiastically.

"You must be Evangeline Theriot," He smiled, a light southern accent twisted his words. I put my tiny, olive skinned hand in his gigantic, leathery one and shook it. "Colonel Baker. I have a Gunnery Sergeant somewhere around here who served with your father."

"My father's reputation will surely be one which is difficult to surpass, sir." I smiled too, following the Colonel into the office. John walked closely behind me, at least until the Colonel saw him following.

"And you are?" Colonel Baker asked.

"John Lewis. I'm the Senator sent to make sure Ms. Theriot gets proper treatment." John answered casually. I glowered at him. I wasn't sure what it was, if it was the child of a Marine in me who expected answers to be given formally, or the self sufficiant woman who hated being closely watched.

"Well, you'll know if she's being hurt if you hear a shout," Baker grumbled, shooing him from the office. "Please leave."

John's face settled into a frown as he realized that the Colonel was serious. I listened as the office door shut. With the Senator finally gone I felt as if I could relax.

"Pardon me if I seemed rude. Politicians give me the willies." Baker laced his fingers together.

"Not at all sir," I sat straight in my chair, just as my father had taught me years ago. "I feel the same."

The Colonel picked up a few papers on his desk and went through them, making sure he read each one carefully. "So, you scored, not only the highest, but perfectly on the fitness exam?"

"That's what I've been told, sir."

"How long did you think about seriously taking up this offer?"

"A night. But I decided to do it because it just felt...right. I got the highest score. I don't think it would be right if I passed it off to someone else; someone who didn't do as well as I did." I explained.

The Colonel nodded. "Good. Because my men are not going to treat you with anymore kindness than they would give to a regular enlistee. You're not going to do special push ups or sit ups because you're a lady. You will bunk with the men, eat with the men, exercise, and train with them. However, if it feels too...improper for you to bathe with them, we can set up a time for you to do that by yourself."

"Sir, if I may say so bluntly, wouldn't allowing me to shower at a different time be special treatment?" I asked, simply curious. A broad smile grew on the military man's face as he leaned back in his chair.

"I like you, Ms. Theriot. I like your bravery. Not many women would step up to do something like this."

"Colonel," I searched for my next words. Seriously, I didn't want them to be my last. "May I ask how you feel about me joining the ranks of your men?"

The Colonel paused, as if he was choosing his next words carefully. He sat back in his plush leather chair, lacing his hands together and resting them on his flat stomach. I waited patiently, sitting up straight with my hands in my lap. Although the Colonel and I spoke casually enough, I couldn't help but feel that it was actually somewhat formal.

"I think," The Colonel spoke. "That a woman's place is at home, raising children and running the house. However, things are changin', and they're changin' quickly. I think if a woman wants to join the enlisted forces, it's up to her. And she needs to prove her worth, just like any other soldier."

I liked his answer, agreeing with it whole heartedly. There was a moment of silence between us which the Colonel broke as he stood. I followed, walking behind him to the door of his office.

"Private Jones will escort you to your new barracks and introduce you to your Sergeant. From there, you will meet the men," Colonel Baker held the door open for me as Jones, the skrawny man who lead John and I to the office Stood there, at attention. "Good luck, Private Theriot."


End file.
